Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person
by PinkTribeChick
Summary: Are you daring enough to think outside of the box?
1. Tale 1: Weird

**Title: Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

**Tale 1: Weird**

**Fandom: **The Tribe

**Author: **PinkTribeChick

**Summary:** Are you daring enough to think outside of the box?

**Extended Summary: **A collection of unconnected one-shots, each focusing on a different Tribe character, from their point-of-view, in an unexpected way. Each varies as to which series of the show it is set in, and many contain material that is PG-13 or higher.

**Rating: **Mature

**Pairing: **For _Weird_ – I'm not going to tell you until the end of the story! I want to see if you can figure it out for yourselves!

**Author's Notes: **These one-shots do not connect together or occur in the same universe/series. Most contain mature language, violence, and/or sexual situations. Read at your own risk! This first one was written one night when I was in a really weird mood, and yes, I know that it's very vague as to who "he" is. Many thanks to Brett The Mole, Ariannya, Whit, Will, and my mom (who proofed the most violent of the bunch) for their help along the way as each of the tales was written!

**Disclaimer:** All characters, situations, and song lyrics remain the property of their respective owners. Any original characters are sole property of me, PinkTribeChick.

* * *

**Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

_**Tale 1: Weird**_

_"Isn't it weird . . . isn't it strange . . . even though we're just two strangers on this runaway train . . . we're both trying to find a place in the sun . . . we've lived in the shadows, but doesn't everyone . . . isn't it strange how we all feel a little bit weird sometimes . . ."_

_Hanson

* * *

_

_**Dear Mall Rats, **_

_By the time you read this note, I will be long gone from this place, from the city. Strange, how what used to feel like home feels more like being in a strange land with hostile natives. And I know running away from my problems won't change how they are or make them go away. Salene, you've told me that many times. But I just didn't know what else to do or where else to go. And I just don't know how to live life without him. I just can't anymore. It's gotten old, trying to fit into this mold of what you guys think I should be. As if you know who I really am on the inside. I really doubt any of you do know the real me. _

_We're living in a world where people are no longer defined by who they are or what they achieve. It's all about what tribe you're with, and whether you're the kings of the city or not. It's about laws and controlling each other. And it's about hatred. Hate . . . for a one syllable word, it sure seems pretty powerful. And I'm tired of the constraints it puts on my heart and my mind. I'm tired of its shackles. I long to be free to be able to think as I please and love as my heart desires. I long to finally be able to be me again. _

_Love doesn't exist in our world anymore. And I was a fool to ever think it did. Where did love get me? Alone, with a child of my own, no one to help me raise it. And then it got me to here - a point where I can't even look at any of you anymore, you all hurt me so much. You tell me not to love who I choose to love, because you're afraid it might start war. That this other woman that he once loved, she still loves him, and she will do anything to keep him, even kill others. Yes, she may have the powerful army of the Technos on her side, but good always wins over evil. You tell me that I can't love him, because he is who he is and has never pretended to be anything else. He is even one of you, and you judge him, just in the way that you have judged me. Move on, is what you tell me, Pride. Time heals all wounds, that's what you say, Trudy. Well, guess what? I say that's bullshit. How do you move on when you know something is right? And time doesn't heal a wound that deep. Time doesn't make a love like that go away. Time doesn't make you forget about true love. And you all cannot make me forget about the only person other than my son that I truly love. The one person that actually allows me to be me and loves me in spite of it. _

_True, I may sound bitter. But who are you to tell me what I can do with my life, who I can be with, and who I am? You've grown so proud, so arrogant and heavy handed in your power that you think you can even control the weather itself, telling the sun when to shine and the clouds when to rain. Pride - you've tried to stop me, out of your jealousy, which you mask by calling it love. Cloe - you hate to see anyone hurt, even if it is someone you can't stand, so you try to talk me out of how I feel. Dee - even you, who claim to be so open-minded, such a hopeless romantic let the fear and hatred of this city control your thoughts. You all, just like the rest of the people in this world, are no one. And I refuse to let you make me one of you. To let you make me become a mindless no one. My little baby Bray and he are everyone to me. And I can't let you take that from me. You've already driven him off, along with that woman he no longer loves. But that wasn't enough. You drive me off as well. _

_So, with a somewhat heavy heart, I write this letter to each and every one of you. I charge each of you with betrayal of the highest form - selling out a friendship. You all hold friendship with such a low regard, though I must admit, you've done a wonderful job to fool yourselves into thinking otherwise. But I don't wish you ill, have no fear. Because I know each of you is already rotting in the prison that is built within each of you. A prison you have made. A prison that your hatred has forged. A prison whose walls are built high around this mall and around this city, but are so well concealed that no one can see them. A prison that none of you will ever really break free from. And this is why I must leave. I have to break free, for myself, for my son, and for him. He is waiting for me, outside the city, right now. And I go to meet him. And to never see you again. _

**_Amber

* * *

_**

_**Please review – I'm anxious to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading!**_

****

**_(Okay – so, anyone figure out who "he" is? In case you didn't – it's LEX.)_**


	2. Tale 2: 6 Underground

**Title: Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

**Tale 2: 6 Underground**

**Fandom: **The Tribe

**Author: **PinkTribeChick

**Summary:** Are you daring enough to think outside of the box?

**Extended Summary: **A collection of unconnected one-shots, each focusing on a different Tribe character, from their point-of-view, in an unexpected way. Each varies as to which series of the show it is set in, and many contain material that is PG-13 or higher.

**Rating: **Mature

**Pairing: **Pride-Trudy

**Author's Notes: **These one-shots do not connect together or occur in the same universe/series. Most contain mature language, violence, and/or sexual situations. Read at your own risk! This one was inspired by the song "6 Underground" by the Sneaker Pimps and the fact that I was longing to do a proper Pride-Trudy piece. I don't really consider it a song fic because the song just happens to be playing the club as Pride sees Trudy – enhancing what he's feeling – and the story really isn't centered around the lyrics so much. It is set circa-Series 4, before Pride and Salene got together, obviously.. This tale contains mild sexual content – so click away now if you don't want to read anything like that! Many thanks to Brett The Mole, Ariannya, Whit, Will, and my mom (who proofed the most violent of the bunch) for their help along the way as each of the tales was written!

**Disclaimer:** All characters, situations, and song lyrics remain the property of their respective owners. Any original characters are sole property of me, PinkTribeChick.

* * *

**Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

_**Tale 2: 6 Underground**_

_"Take me down, 6 underground . . . the ground beneath your feet . . . overground, watch this space . . . I'm open to falling from grace . . ."_

_Sneaker Pimps

* * *

_

_**Take me down, 6 underground . . . the ground beneath your feet . . .**_

Pride watched a girl as she danced on stage across the room. The loud music blaring through the room didn't really affect him, aside from the fact that it was making the whole room move as one. There was just something about the girl on stage. Her movements were seductive and languid as she danced alone to the driving bass beat.

He started to dance along with everyone else, slowly making his way across the room. He had to see who she was. She brought her arms up above her head as the rest of her body swayed, almost slithered, like a snake. She sank to the ground as she did so, then stood back up. He got a closer look at her briefly. She had short black hair that looked purple under the black lights of the club. It was wild, sticking up all over the place. She had a tiny, shapely figure. His pulse started to race.

This wasn't about getting to know someone or making a connection. Just sex. Only sex. A one night stand . . .

_**Overground, watch this space . . . I'm open to falling from grace . . .**_

He'd grown tired of the girls at the mall. None of them could give him what he needed, and the one that could . . . well, she wanted nothing to do with him. So, he had to resort to randomly picking up girls in clubs around the city. A quick snog and screw in a dark alley. Never remember her face the next day. Nail and bail, as Lex called it. But it was Pride's secret. Pride's bad habit. Sure, he wanted more. But this would do for now.

He watched her as she bent over and ran her hand along her leg, until she reached her thigh. She shook her rear, then patted her hip to the beat. Her dress was a skimpy black thing, leather, and not covering enough skin to even be called a doily, much less a dress. The hem fell to just below her buttox, and the upper part was halter style, the back of it dipping low to show her porcelain white skin. As she bent over to run her hand up her fishnet clad leg again, he got a glimpse of her underwear. If this girl wasn't asking to get some, then he was dumb as they came.

_**Calm me down, bring it round, too way high off your street . . . I can see like nothing else, in me you're better than I wannabe . . . **_

He was almost to the stage when she turned her back to him, swaying in time to the music. He stood there in awe for a moment, somewhat nervous about what was about to take place. Then he jumped up onto the stage and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Yes? Can I help you?" she asked seductively, turning to look at him. Her bluish-brown eyes widened as she saw him, and his mouth fell open.

"Trudy?" he breathed. She went pale, standing stiffly still on the stage in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a high pitched voice, as though he had to right to be out at a club that late at night. He was Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes. The do-gooder. Always high-minded and looking out for everyone else. He never had any fun.

"What are you doing here?" he retorted defensively. She was the one that had a child after all - why was she out so late, and so scantily dressed? She was the last person he'd ever expected to see at a place like this. The people continued to dance around them as they stared at each other in amazement. Trudy was the first to crack, smiling sympathetically at him.

_**Don't think 'cos I understand, I care . . . Don't think 'cos I'm talking, we're friends . . .**_

**"**Tired of the mall, huh?" she said. He started to laugh.

"Yeah," he replied. They both grew quiet again, staring at each other once more. He couldn't get over how incredible she looked in that dress. Even after months of knowing her, he had no idea that she'd been hiding a body like that underneath all the layers of clothing she wore daily.

"Just because I'm a mother . . . it doesn't mean . . . well, it doesn't mean anything. I'm still allowed to have fun and cut loose sometimes," she explained.

"I know," he responded. She stared at him. Why hadn't she noticed how gorgeous he was before? And she'd thought none of the guys at the mall were cute. Pride was incredible, with his curly shoulder-length hair, green eyes, and muscular physique. Talk about being blind. Had someone turned up the heat or something? Her dress clung to her skin as she started to sweat, her heart galloping like a race horse.

"You look . . . really great," she managed to say finally.

"You, too," he returned the compliment. It was true. She looked amazing. She started fanning her face with her hand.

"I'm so hot from all this dancing. I think I'm going to go get something to drink. I'll see you later, back at the mall. Okay?" she told him.

"Sure. Your secret's safe with me," he replied.

"Yours, too," she said. She stepped past him and was about to jump off the stage when he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. He held her close to him and kissed her passionately. She reciprocated the kiss. They finally pulled apart, both gasping for breath and unable to look each other in the eye.

"You wanna go somewhere?" he asked in a husky tone. She nodded, clasping his hand tightly in hers. He jumped off the stage, then helped her down. They made their way quickly through the crowd and outside into the cold night air.

_**Talk me down, safe and sound, too strung up to sleep . . . wear me out, scream and shout, swear my time's never cheap . . .**_

They walked a little ways before Trudy pulled him onto an unlit side street, between two buildings. He pressed her up against the wall as they kissed fervently, his hand moving up her leg. She unbuckled his pants, and he pressed harder against her as they continued to kiss . . .

The next morning, Pride walked into the café, his hair a mess and his clothes looking slept in. He sat down at a table across from Salene and Lex after grabbing a cup of coffee. He inhaled the coffee fumes, his eyes barely open.

"Hey, Pride, where were you last night? I came to your room around two, and you weren't there. It looked like you hadn't even bothered going to bed," Salene asked.

"Oh? Well . . . ," Pride fumbled for an excuse, a plausible lie, as Salene and Lex stared at him expectantly. "I thought I heard a noise in the sewers last night, so I patrolled the manhole all night."

"Oh. Okay," Salene said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Good job, Pride," Lex responded. "I was so out of it asleep last night, I wouldn't have heard a bell clanging, even if it'd been right in front of my face." Pride nodded, letting out a sigh of relief. As he took a sip of coffee, Trudy walked into the room. She nodded at him, a secret smile in her eyes. He blushed, looking down at his coffee. It had been one incredible night among many. And tonight, he would go out and do it all over again. Maybe with Trudy. And maybe not just for the sex this time . . .

* * *

_**Please review – I'm anxious to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading!**_


	3. Tale 3: Hear

**Title: Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

**Tale 3: Hear**

**Fandom: **The Tribe

**Author: **PinkTribeChick

**Summary:** Are you daring enough to think outside of the box?

**Extended Summary: **A collection of unconnected one-shots, each focusing on a different Tribe character, from their point-of-view, in an unexpected way. Each varies as to which series of the show it is set in, and many contain material that is PG-13 or higher.

**Rating: **Mature

**Pairing: **Jack-Original Female Fiction Character, with mentions of Jack-Ellie.

**Author's Notes: **These one-shots do not connect together or occur in the same universe/series. Most contain mature language, violence, and/or sexual situations. Read at your own risk! This one took me weeks to write, cause I got stuck about midway through with a bit of writers block! But I think it came out okay in the end! Jack is my favorite character, so this piece is one of my absolute favorites out of what I've written! This story is set between Series 4 and Series 5, after Ram's defeat, and with the assumption that they got atleast Cloe back from VR. Many thanks to Brett The Mole, Ariannya, Whit, Will, and my mom (who proofed the most violent of the bunch) for their help along the way as each of the tales was written!

**Disclaimer:** All characters, situations, and song lyrics remain the property of their respective owners. Any original characters are sole property of me, PinkTribeChick.

* * *

**Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

_**Tale 3: Hear**_

_"On a train, heading east of here . . . where I'll end up, I am not quite clear . . . but I can't help myself, I must be settling down . . . until they stop this thing, I'll get around . . . when I hear it's been done before . . . and I hear it's a simple thing . . . then I hear it's not difficult . . . and I hear almost everything . . ."_

_Moonpools and Caterpillars

* * *

_

Jack . . . ," a soft female voice called out from the darkness. Jack looked up the staircase he stood in front of. He couldn't see what was at the top. But then again, there wasn't anything around him either. Where did the stairs lead to? And where was her voice coming from? "Jack . . . I'm waiting for you . . ."

"Who are you?" he called out into the foggy void. He started to climb up the stairs, one at a time. On his hands and feet, as though he was an infant learning to crawl. "Where are you? Why can't I see you?"

"It's almost time, Jack . . . but you have to stand on your own two feet first. You have to break away from chains that are holding you back," the girl said. "They're oppressing you, slowly smothering you. You're already starting to feel restless. You have to escape before it's too late."

"What are you talking about? This is my home, my family. Ellie's here, and I love her," Jack questioned. "I can't just leave that."

"You have to. You have to leave her behind. She's like a virus, Jack. She's going to eat away at you until there's nothing left. She doesn't know how to love properly . . ." He felt his blood rise at that remark.

"You're wrong!" he exclaimed. "She loves me, and she would never do anything to intentionally hurt me!"

"But she will. And when she does, she'll have the rest of them backing her up. You won't have any firm ground to stand on. That's why you must get out now, while you still can, Jack. Please. Don't just do it for yourself . . . do it for us, for the future," the girl responded. He was almost to the top of the stairs, and he still couldn't see who was talking to him.

"Why should I believe you? I can't even see you!" he shouted angrily.

"Do you really have any other alternative? You know I'm right. You've already started to see the signs, haven't you?" the voice chided. "Your sudden urge to shut them all out. Ellie's pushiness and her slowly rising mental instability, the way she treats you. She's becoming more and more erratic with each passing day. She doesn't even see you as an equal. And you know it. You feel it every time you give in to her, instead of just standing up for yourself, firm and tall. You even feel it when you kiss her. You can't fool me. And you certainly aren't fooling yourself."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack denied. "Even if she is going a little crazy, it's all the more reason to stay. She needs me by her side, to help her through it. I think you're wrong. Why should I believe you? I've never met you, I don't know you. You could just be a figment of my imagination, my conscience plaguing me about my restlessness."

"Maybe. But . . . sometimes, you have to believe in things that you can't see or hear or even feel. It's called faith. And it's something you're going to have to have a lot of in the months to come. But it's up to you to take the first step. You have to leave the Mall, the city. Make a new life for yourself somewhere else, with new people. The rest will come in its own time. Just trust, Jack. There's something better out there for you," the voice encouraged him. He finally made it to the top of the stairs.

"But this is my home . . . I was the first one here. Why should I have to be the one to leave?" Jack inquired.

"Because there is no other way. There are more of them, and there is just you," the girl said. He could see her clearly now. She had her back to him, a headful of black hair blowing about in the cold breeze around them. She wore a flowing pink dress, but he couldn't see her face at all. She was just a few feet from his reach. "You'll find, as you pack, and even as you walk out of the city, that it's much easier than you expected. And that I was right. And you'll feel free, like a bird coasting on the wind. And down the road, we'll meet, as it is meant to be. It's up to you, Jack. Do you have the courage to step outside of your comfort zone and save yourself?" He was able to stand upright now, and he walked to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll try," he told her. She turned to face him, but all he could see was her eyes, violet and shimmering with tears.

"You have to, Jack. Or you'll suffocate, and that fire in your eyes that I love will die," she said. "It just takes faith. A simple leap of faith . . . faith . . . faith . . ." The word echoed over and over on the wind, as she faded away.

"Wait!" Jack sat up in bed, panting. "Wait . . . ," he mumbled, reaching out in front of him, fumbling at the air. His shirt and pants clung to his body with sweat, as he sat there. He kicked off the sheets, still out of breath. He looked over at Ellie. She lay fast asleep next to him, so peaceful, so innocent. He knew something was terrible lurking beneath that. He couldn't see it, but he'd felt it since the moment he'd gotten back. He'd been having the same dream over and over every night for weeks. Each night, he got a little more of the picture, another piece of the puzzle, and when he woke up, he felt a little more apprehensive than he had before.

He slid out of bed, the girl's words echoing in his head. Was it really that simple, just walking away? He'd done it before, but he'd done so with every intention of returning back to the Mall when he felt better. And even when he'd left - he'd had a valid excuse that not even he could argue about. Ellie had cheated on him, had fallen in love with someone else, and it had hurt Jack greatly. He'd needed time to recover, away from Ellie and everything that reminded him of her. And he had returned with Cloe in tow, having accidentally rescued her. He hadn't wanted to stay initially, but atleast he had come back. Amber had left Bray and the Mall Rats up on Eagle Mountain, and the way she'd talked about it, it sounded so easy. But was it really that easy to walk away from everything and everyone you loved, from your home, and just forget it all? Especially for seemingly no reason?

He grabbed a clean shirt from the nearby shelving unit and put it on. He took a deep breath, but still felt like he wasn't getting enough air into his lungs. There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that she was right. And a load so heavy on his heart and mind, it felt like a ten-ton gorilla was sitting on him. He unconsciously grabbed his back pack and started packing his clothes and things into it. He jumped when Ellie moaned faintly and rolled over in bed. He looked over at her again. He wasn't sure what evil she had up her sleeve, but he knew it was coming. He finished packing his bag and slid it underneath his side of the bed. He sat back down on the bed, taking Ellie's hand in his. He stroked her hair gently, as she breathed in and out evenly. Did he really have to do this?

The first few rays of the morning sunrise began to peek through the blinds on the window. Jack could hear the others making noise as they awoke for the day. He could hear Salene in the Café making breakfast, Pride helping her as he always did. He heard Amber's son, Bray, start fussing down the hallway, and Amber soothing his cries. He heard Cloe and Mouse arguing about an item of clothing that Mouse wanted to borrow again. All those sounds used to be so soothing to him. It was what made the Mall and those people his home. It was what made them feel like a family. But now, it sounded more like the annoying sound that someone playing badly on a violin would make. And Ellie's voice sounded the same way.

Ellie stirred, slowly opening her eyes. She looked at Jack lovingly as he sat there, still stroking her hair. She yanked the covers up over her tiny frame a little better, as it was cold in the mall, and smiled at him.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, nodding.

"Good . . . ," Jack trailed off, staring out the small slits of the blinds, the light piercing his eyes painfully. He blinked a couple of times as his eyes watered. Smells of toast and eggs wafted through the room and to Jack's nose. His stomach growled, making Ellie giggle.

"Hungry?" she asked. His stomach growled again, and he put a hand on it.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said with a smile, trying to push the doubts in his mind back and focus on the present.

"So . . . I was thinking . . . we should really get the Amulet back up and running. I mean, it's not like we have the Chosen or the Technos stopping us from publishing it anymore, and we're finally both back home. I think it would be good, for the city, bring everyone together," Ellie said. Jack groaned inwardly. That was the last thing he wanted to do. The Amulet had caused more problems in his relationship with Ellie than he could even begin to count. And it had ushered in the rule of the Chosen, practically, with that story about them being finished. The lies that Wolf had told Ellie. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, Ellie . . . I'm not sure it's such a good idea," Jack responded hesitantly. Ellie sat up, pouting at him.

"Why not?" she whimpered. She looked at him with wide, puppy-dog eyes, and her lower lip started to quiver. The girl had been right. Ellie had him totally wrapped around her finger. He let out a sigh and smiled at Ellie. He put a hand on her cheek.

"Alright, we'll do it. If it means that much to you," he ceded. Ellie's face lit up with happiness. She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly. Jack let out a laugh. She was always so cute when she got interested in something or she was excited. "I'm going to go get some breakfast, then I'll get dressed, and we can start working on it. I have the perfect story for the first edition. The Technos: A Virtual Expose'." _Oh, boy, she's going to tweak Jay's nose about his past, and he really doesn't need that right now_, Jack thought. _This is not good. What have I gotten myself into?_ She stood up and walked to the door.

"Okay," he said quietly, nodding. His brain was now going even faster than it had been before. Why couldn't he just say no to her? Why?

"You coming to breakfast?" she asked.

"I'll be there in a few minutes. I need to check the security system, and see if it picked anything up overnight," Jack lied. Really, he just wasn't all that hungry, and he just wanted an excuse to stay away from Ellie for a little while. Ellie shrugged with a smile and walked out of the room. _'A simple leap of faith . . .'_ The words echoed through his mind again. He knelt down beside the bed and looked at his full backpack, which was hidden under the bed. He stared at it for a moment, thinking long and hard about what he was actually about to do. He sat back, grumbling to himself.

"I can't do this. It's not right. It's crazy. I can't just up and leave," he said to himself. He stood back up and headed out of the room, going downstairs to check the security cameras.

"Whoa!" Lex exclaimed as he bumped into Jack, coming out of the sewers.

"Sorry," Jack mumbled, not even looking to see who he'd run into. Still moving, he pushed past Lex and kept heading toward the man-hole entrance to the sewers.

"No problem," Lex said softly, as he gave the troubled boy an odd look. Shrugging, he walked off in the opposite direction, toward his own room.

Jack pushed the man-hole cover away, pulling himself up through the hole. Once outside of the Mall, he took a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs. As the early morning sunshine poured down on him, he felt refreshed and free again. The feeling that he was being slowly suffocated was gone, and he could think clearly. He drew his knees up to his chest as he sat in the green grass of the early spring. Closing his eyes, all her could see were hers. The pair of violet eyes from the girl in his dreams. There was just something so genuine and sincere inside them. And it wasn't just that - there was truth in them too. She was right, he had to get out of there. With that image in his mind, courage swelled up inside of Jack.

He stood up, brushing the grass off his backside. He made his way back down the ladder, into the sewers, not bothering to replace the man-hole cover. He didn't have time. And if he was going to do this, he needed to be able to get out of the Mall fast anyway. It was now or never.

Having quietly made his way up to his room while the others were eating breakfast, he yanked his boots on and quickly tied them. He pulled his backpack out from underneath the bed. As he stuffed a few last items into it, he realized that he needed to leave some sort of letter for Ellie, atleast to tell her he wasn't coming back, if nothing else.

Jack looked around the room for a notepad or a scrap of paper, something to write on. He finally spotted Ellie's journal, which lay on her desk across the room. He grabbed it, and turning to the first empty page he could find in it, he began to write. It didn't take him very long. There wasn't much he needed to say. He didn't feel like he needed to explain himself or his reasons for leaving to her. In some way, he felt that she probably knew them already. Signing the note, he lay her journal on her pillow, opened to the page where he had scribbled a brief goodbye. _I have to go. I'm sorry. For everything. Love always, Jack._

Poking his head out of the doorway to the room, he looked both ways to ensure that no one was coming. He hurriedly and silently made his way down the stairs and to the sewers, then climbed out of the man-hole. He slid the cover back over the hole as gingerly as he could, knowing any sound it made would echo throughout the Mall and signal to the others that someone was moving about in the sewers. The sun was higher in the sky now, and it seemed to be smiling down on him as he made his way down the path, toward the street that led out of the city. Tears ran down his cheeks, but he was smiling. He was finally free.

A few minutes later, as he was almost out of the city, Ellie was reading the letter he'd left behind. As tears filled her eyes, she let out a painful, menacing scream.

"Jack!!!" Her scream echoed throughout the city, to its borders. Jack heard it, and recognizing her voice, he shivered. Now he knew there was no going back. He was on his way home. Somewhere beyond the city, someone called out to him.

"Jack . . ."

"Jack . . . wake up, sweetie," a voice called to him. "Jack, it's morning. Time for breakfast." Jack stirred, opening his eyes slowly. He smiled when he saw her sitting next to him, her hands on her pregnant tummy. His wife. She smiled at him, her violet eyes sparkling. Her long black hair was pulled up into ponytail, and she wore a pink nightgown.

"Morning, Dai," he said sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "You're up a little early this morning, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Someone was kicking really hard and woke me up," she said softly, looking down at her belly. Jack put a hand to her stomach, feeling the baby inside kick hard. He sat up and gently kissed her. And in sitting there, with his wife and unborn child, in the early morning hours, he finally felt like he was home. Dai had been right all along - it really hadn't been that hard to find it after all . . .

* * *

_**Please review – I'm anxious to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading!** _


	4. Tale 4: White Flag

**Title: Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

**Tale 4: White Flag**

**Fandom: **The Tribe

**Author: **PinkTribeChick

**Summary:** Are you daring enough to think outside of the box?

**Extended Summary: **A collection of unconnected one-shots, each focusing on a different Tribe character, from their point-of-view, in an unexpected way. Each varies as to which series of the show it is set in, and many contain material that is PG-13 or higher.

**Rating: **Mature

**Pairing: **Salene-Bray (somewhat one-sided)

**Author's Notes: **These one-shots do not connect together or occur in the same universe/series. Most contain mature language, violence, and/or sexual situations. Read at your own risk!

This piece is the award-winner – literally. It won first runner up in 2004 Pre-Tribe Short Story Contest. And it was originally written for a series of pre-tribe one-shots that Ariannya and I were going to do together, but that never came to fruition. And when the contest came around – I had never posted this story anywhere, and it was the first thing that came to mind. So I entered it – and to my surprise, it won something. I love this story with all my heart – and I love the song it's named after as well. It is set, quite obviously, post-Series 5. Many thanks to Ariannya and Calliope Denae for their thoughts and feedback on this piece! I hope you all enjoy it, and please, please, tell me what you think of it! Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer:** All characters, situations, and song lyrics remain the property of their respective owners. Any original characters are sole property of me, PinkTribeChick.

* * *

**Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

_**Tale 4: White Flag**_

**1st Runner-Up in Tribeworld's 2004 Pre-Tribe Short Story Contest**

_"Well, I will go down with this ship . . . and I won't put my hands up and surrender . . . there will be no white flag above my door . . . I'm in love and always will be . . ."_

_Dido

* * *

_

I know they all think me an emotional weakling. And that's alright, because I know they're wrong. I have moments of weakness here and there, as most human beings do, but I am strong as a rock. I don't need Ryan or Pride or May or anyone else to protect me from the big, bad world. I can stand on my own. There is much the Mall Rats don't know about me.

I had a normal childhood, I guess, being an only child and somewhat of a bookworm. There weren't many kids my age in the neighborhood, so I had few playmates. Books passed the time, as did horseback riding. And as I grew older, both became a sort of solace for me. An escape from the horrible world I lived in, where I was teased from how I looked and the grades I made.

Okay, I'll admit it - I was a complete nerd. It's something that makes little difference now, but back then, it meant the world. Each day in my shoes was torture. Endless heckling from my classmates about the thick glasses I wore and the braces that didn't seem to fix my buck teeth quickly enough. At some point, I guess I just stopped caring about how I looked. It just wasn't worth the effort if all I was ever going to get from it was goading and humiliation.

I wore the required school uniform, which those around me always managed to look stylish in. On me - I looked like a hippo in the white oxford shirt, knee-length plaid skirt, and loafers with navy blue knee socks. I was a telescope-eyes, donkey-toothed, lard butt who excelled in school and shut out the world.

I know, I sound bitter. But frankly, I'm not. I preferred solitary loneliness to letting the world inside. Because with the good came the bad - and for me, the bad always seemed to overshadow everything else. Sure, I let the world in now, but there was a time when I didn't. And there's a reason I finally began to let it in. A very good reason, I think.

Most people don't believe in fate. And most don't believe that one moment can change the rest of your life irrevocably. But that's all it took for me. One single perfect moment, a glimpse into the life I could have, the person I was meant to be, shaped me into who I am now.

I was sitting in my favorite coffee shop downtown after school one day, sipping on a cappuccino while I studied for an art history test. It was a few months before the virus turned things upside down, a normal afternoon for me. I looked exceptionally geeky that day, having just come from the orthodontist, where I'd gotten head gear, the horror of all horrors for brace-wearers. So, I felt really ugly right about then because of it.

As I read through information and analyses on the works of Michelangelo, Raphael, and da Vinci, I got lost in my own little world, per usual. I don't really know what it was that made me look up right at the time I did. Maybe it was the sudden chill I felt as the door to the shop opened, letting in a blast of winter's air. Or maybe it was that I had just sipped up the last of my cappuccino and thought of getting more. Whatever it was, I looked up.

Upon looking up, I saw the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen in my life. Standing at the counter was the most heavenly boy. He was tall, well built, with medium brown hair. Very Gap model-worthy. And that was just the back of him.

"Here's your latte. Sorry for the wait," the cashier said, handing the boy his cup.

"It's okay," the boy said, his tone friendly and confident. "Thanks." He grabbed a couple of napkins out of the holder, and then turned to leave. That's when our eyes met.

He had the most incredible blue eyes. I don't even think there's a Crayola color that matches the blue of his eyes, though there should be. Anyhow . . .

He stared at me for a moment, in all my hideousness, as I stared at him. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. I had to pinch my leg hard under the table to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but this certainly was for real. He was definitely smiling at me. He was checking me out, which had never happened to me before. Guys _never_ checked me out.

"Hi," he said softly. I immediately turned red. Was I being too obvious by blatantly staring at him so? He was staring at me just the same, so why shouldn't I stare back? Besides, I didn't care what anyone thought of how I looked. I was just waiting for him to make some mean comment, but he didn't. I forced myself to speak.

"H - h - hi," I managed to stutter. _Real smooth, Salene_, I berated myself silently.

"You have really amazing eyes. They're such a pretty shade of brown, kind of a unusual shade, though. Almost like cinnamon sugar," he said. "Has anyone ever told you that?" He took a sip of his latte.

"N - no . . . thanks," I sputtered. He smiled again. The door to the shop opened, but neither of us looked away toward it.

"Come on, man! Mom said to be home by five, and it's already quarter til!" a squeaky male voice exclaimed at the boy. The boy said nothing, motionless, still smiling at me like he was in a trance, and me smiling bashfully back. His brother, as I assumed the voice was, waved a hand in front of his face. "What the hell are you staring at? That ugly cow over there? Dude, you have seriously bad taste." I flinched at those words. Because, for one brief second, I had completely forgotten who I was. I had forgotten about the glasses and the headgear that made my mouth hurt and my chubby face. With the way the boy had been looking at me, I had actually started to feel . . . well, beautiful. For the first time in my life.

"Bray! Wake up, come on!" the boy's brother said. Bray . . . so that was his name. A beautiful name for a beautiful boy. His brother grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the coffee shop. But his eyes never left mine until he was out of sight.

Alright . . . I'm sure by now you think I'm lying about all of this. But it's the truth - I met Bray before the virus, in a small coffee shop. And he is the reason I am who I am now. From that day on - I lost weight, I got contacts, and I got rid of my braces. I actually wore makeup and started taking pride in my appearance. I reached out to people and made friends, found new hobbies. Not just in case I ever saw him again - but so someday I might have the hope of feeling that wonderful feeling again. Feel that I was beautiful, and that in someone else's eyes, I was beautiful no matter how awful I might look. I didn't just find self-confidence that day, though. In those blue eyes, simply put, I found my soul mate. Bray is my soul mate.

No, Bray didn't realize that I'm the same person as the ugly duckling he met over four years ago - but he will someday. And no matter how many girls he fools around with in the meantime - we will be together eventually. And it will be for forever. Because we shared a special moment that he never shared with anyone else - not even Amber. I believe it, I know it. He wanted me once, and I know deep down that he still wants me. I'm just waiting for him to figure it out. But until then . . . I'm going to focus on finding him again. Because it turns out, he's not so dead after all.

And as we land on the small island where Lex and Ram claim there are Techno prisoners being held - including Bray and Ved possibly - I am filled with a new hope, a new energy. Fate has a funny way of working itself out in the end. It's almost sunset, but beyond the white sands and the palm trees along the show, the faint outline of a large camp can be seen in the distance, against the backdrop of rosy hues. I smile to myself as I help Trudy and Brady off the boat.

_Soon, Bray_, I think. _Soon_ . . .

* * *

**_So, what do you guys think? Please review – I'm anxious to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading!_**


	5. Tale 5: Have You Ever Really ?

**Title: Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

**Tale 5: Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman?**

**Fandom: **The Tribe

**Author: **PinkTribeChick

**Summary:** Are you daring enough to think outside of the box?

**Extended Summary: **A collection of unconnected one-shots, each focusing on a different Tribe character, from their point-of-view, in an unexpected way. Each varies as to which series of the show it is set in, and many contain material that is PG-13 or higher.

**Rating: **Mature

**Pairing: **Lex/Zandra, with a mention of Lex/Tai-San

**Author's Notes: **These one-shots do not connect together or occur in the same universe/series. Most contain mature language, violence, and/or sexual situations. Read at your own risk! This piece started off as part of another collection of stories I had planned to write – "The Dream Anthology" – which also included the beginnings of a Cloe/Dal piece I never completed. After that collection never came to fruition, this story fit in quite well with the Cookie Cutter set, so I added it. I hope you guys like it! Many thanks to Brett The Mole, Ariannya, Whit, Will, and my mom (who proofed the most violent of the bunch) for their help along the way as each of the tales was written!

**Disclaimer:** All characters, situations, and song lyrics remain the property of their respective owners. Any original characters are sole property of me, PinkTribeChick.

* * *

**Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

_**Tale 5: Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman**_

_"When you love a woman you tell her that she's really wanted . . . when you love a woman you tell her that she's the one . . . 'cause she needs somebody to tell her that it's gonna last forever . . . so tell me have you ever really . . . really, really ever loved a woman?"_

_Bryan Adams

* * *

_

Lex held his hand out to a pretty brunette girl as tango music started to play in the background. She took it with a smile, and Lex quickly spun her, pulling her close to him. He could feel the heat of her body against his, as they danced in the warmth of the summer evening. They were surrounded by other people who were dancing in the large Mexican villa that Lex owned. The fragrance of roses perfumed the air, as torches provided light in the evening darkness.

Lex looked at the girl. She wore a black mask, as did everyone for it was a masque ball. She had a pleasing figure and full, luscious lips. In another time and place, he wouldn't have minded having his way with her. But something was bogging his conscience down. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he could feel it.

As the music ended, everything stopped dancing and clapped. A Salsa band was playing in the corner, and they bowed at the applause. The conductor stepped forward.

"We going to take a little break-ah," the man said with a heavy Spanish accent. "We be back in fifteen minutes. CD player will provide music until then." He bowed again as everyone clapped. The band then filed off the stage.

"Thank you for the dance," Lex said, kissing the girl's hand. She giggled shyly, smiling and blushing. She turned and scurried off, the long dress swishing as she went. Lex just waved.

Lex looked up into the night sky with a smile. Not a cloud to be seen, just perfect crystal clear stars. He couldn't have picked a better night to throw a party. As music started to fill the air from the speakers nearby, Lex felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned to look, as the person moved to the other side of him. Puzzled, Lex looked to his other side. A familiar blonde haired girl stood there, resting her head on his shoulder as she linked arms with him, and a smile spread across Lex's face as he saw her.

"Hey . . . I was wondering where you'd gotten off to," he said.

"Just mingling," she replied. She wore a beautiful cream-colored, antique lace dress that was just barely off the shoulder. It fit her tiny waist well, and the hem fell to just above her knees. Lex reached out and took her hand, pulling her to him slowly.

"You look beautiful tonight, you know that?" he murmured softly. She smiled, her blue-green eyes twinkling in the moonlight. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she kissed him tenderly.

"Dance with me?" she whispered, her eyes still closed from the kiss. Lex nodded. They moved onto the dance floor, and he gently held her in his arms as they swayed to the music.

_When you love a woman . . . you tell her that she's really wanted . . . when you love a woman . . . you tell her that she'd the one . . . she needs somebody . . . to tell her that it's gonna last forever . . . so tell me have you ever really . . . really, really . . . ever loved a woman . . ._

Lex looked at her lovingly, gazing deep into her eyes. As he did so, he could clearly see the image of a little boy. A little boy with his jet black hair and her blue-green eyes. Lex's eyes filled with tears as they continued to dance. Something about the moment seemed so surreal, being there with her in his arms. Suddenly, he realized what it was that had been weighing on his mind. He stopped, pulling away from her. She stared at him in bewilderment as he looked at her wistfully.

"You can't stay, can you?" he asked. Suddenly, all the people and the places around them disappeared, and the music stopped. It was just him and her, in a great black emptiness. A cold wind blew, and she started to cry quietly. Her curly hair blew softly in the wind, and she rubbed her arms with her hands in an attempt to stay warm.

"I wish I could, but I can't," she said sadly. "I have somewhere else to be. And you have someone else to be with." She touched his cheek gently, looking at him longingly.

"I don't want to be with anyone else," he said desperately.

"I have to go, Lex. Can't you understand? My place isn't here anymore," she explained. "I'll always love you, Lex. And don't forget that. Don't forget me. But I can't stay. I just can't . . ." She turned and started to walk off, disappearing into the darkness.

"No!" he cried as she walked away. "No, you have to stay! I need you here with me! Please don't go!" As he fell to his knees, he could hear her voice coming to him from the void.

"I'll always love you, Lex. Always. Don't forget me . . . ," she said. Lex looked up into the sky, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"No!!!" he screamed. Suddenly, his eyes flew open . . .

Lex sat up in bed, panting, looking around him. Tai-San was still asleep next to him, breathing in and out slowly. Catching his breath, Lex slid out of bed and walked over to the stereo across the room. Someone must have left it on, because music was coming out of it at a low volume. There was something familiar about the song playing, and still trying to calm down from his dream, Lex just let it play. Sitting down in a chair nearby, he closed his eyes and just listened to the music.

_To really love a woman . . . you let her hold you . . . till you know how she needs to be touched . . . you've gotta breathe her . . . and really taste her . . . until you can feel her in your blood . . . when you can see your unborn children in her eyes . . . you know you really love a woman . . ._

He smiled to himself as he remembered the dream, bittersweet tears running down his cheeks. The thought of her words made him miss her all the more.

_"I'll always love you, Lex . . . Always . . ."_

If only she knew how much he felt the same about her . . .

* * *

_**Please review – I'm anxious to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading!**_


	6. Tale 6: Volcano

**Title: Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

**Tale 6: Volcano**

**Fandom: **The Tribe

**Author: **PinkTribeChick

**Summary:** Are you daring enough to think outside of the box?

**Extended Summary: **A collection of unconnected one-shots, each focusing on a different Tribe character, from their point-of-view, in an unexpected way. Each varies as to which series of the show it is set in, and many contain material that is PG-13 or higher.

**Rating: **Mature

**Pairing: **Ebony/Bray, Ebony/Slade, mentions of Amber/Bray, Ved/Cloe, Ram/Ebony

**Author's Notes: **These one-shots do not connect together or occur in the same universe/series. Most contain mature language, violence, and/or sexual situations. Read at your own risk! This piece gets my STRONGEST WARNING! It contains very, very graphic language and violence. So if you are squeamish about those sorts of things, this tale ISN'T FOR YOU! I'm not going to explain much else about it, other than I'm very proud of it, and that the only reason I can give for writing it is that I wanted to do a story about the dysfunctional relationship between Bray and Ebony, and out of it came Evil!Bray. I hope you like it!

Many thanks to Brett The Mole, Ariannya, Whit, Will, and my mom (who proofed the most violent of the bunch) for their help along the way as each of the tales was written!

**Disclaimer:** All characters, situations, and song lyrics remain the property of their respective owners. Any original characters are sole property of me, PinkTribeChick.

* * *

**Not a Cookie Cutter Kind of Person**

_**Tale 6: Volcano**_

_"Don't hold yourself like that . . . 'cause you'll hurt your knees . . . I kissed your mouth and back . . . but that's all I need . . . don't build your world around . . . volcanoes melt you down . . . what I am to you is not real . . . what I am to you, you do not need . . . what I am to you is not what you mean to me . . . you give me miles and miles of mountains . . . and I'll ask for the sea . . ."_

_Damien Rice

* * *

_

Ebony had always known Bray was one sick fucker.

She'd known it when he'd tied her to a bed and raped her the first time they ever had sex.

She'd known it when she watched him beat Martin within an inch of his life for no reason at all.

She'd known it all these years he'd hidden it from everyone but Martin and her. He was an impeccable actor, a smooth liar. And for some reason, he felt the need to just hide who he really was, make everyone think he was a saint. Perhaps he did it because he didn't want anyone to suspect him any time something bad happened - even though he was always the culprit.

He was the reason Martin went crazy and became Zoot. He was the reason Ebony trusted no one and had terrifying nightmares, that not even Slade's embrace could soothe. He was the reason Trudy had almost lost her mind several times, because he toyed with her so perfectly, she didn't even suspect he was just trying to torture her. Bray was the reason Danni and Dal were dead - he'd made a deal with the Guardian to save his own ass - twice.

Ebony had learned the hard way that nobody was ever who they seemed to be. And no one more so than Bray.

So she wasn't even remotely surprised to see him standing there, in Techno garb, at the dock as the Mall Rats disembarked from the boat that had brought them to this new world. Beside him stood Ved, and startlingly, Cloe, both still alive, and both also in Techno gear. Cloe had a long scar on her right cheek, from her ear to the corner of her mouth, Ebony observed with slight amusement. She could only imagine what Bray had probably done to the poor girl to turn her.

Everyone but Ebony and Ram stared at the three in complete shock. Of course Ram had known about this - he was still the leader of the Technos, even after all of Mega's machinations. He'd led them to this island on purpose, she knew.

Amber was shaking violently with tears, her son clutched tightly in her arms as she stared down his father. Amber still hadn't realized that Bray wasn't pretending - this was who he really was - evil, cold, and twisted. He gave his former girlfriend one of his trademark, perfectly-false-but-believable warm smiles. Amber softened.

"May I?" Bray reached out for his son. Amber nodded mutely and handed Little Bray to him. Bray cradled the boy in his arms, cooing at him. "Oh my, what a big boy you are! So handsome, my son!" Little Bray giggled and put a hand to his father's face, too innocent and young to see the darkness that lurked within Bray's eyes. _Such a sweet moment_, Ebony mused sarcastically.

Bray's eyes looked back up at Amber and the group. His expression changed eerily before their eyes from one of warmth to a cruel, mischievous gleam. He snapped his fingers, and the guards behind him sprang into action, seizing everyone but Ram. Ebony didn't bother to struggle - she knew it was no use.

"Take her," he motioned to Ebony, "To my personal quarters. Throw the others in one of the cages." At this, he turned to leave, Little Bray still snugly in his grasp.

The others commenced to yelling and pleading with their former leader, unsure of why this was happening and how he could have changed so drastically. Amber let out an anguished cry, pulling and kicking against the two guards holding her.

"Give me my son back!" she exclaimed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Bray stopped abruptly and turned to scowl at her.

"_Your_ son?" He smirked. Then he let out a deep, barking sort of laugh, one that gave Ebony chills. "No, no, no, my _dear_, _SWEET_ Amber," he said in a sugary voice. "MY son. You've had more than enough time with him. Now it's MY turn." He turned once more, then strode off.

"No!" Amber howled, her knees buckling underneath her in her grief. "No-o-o!" The guards roughly pulled her up and dragged her off to be imprisoned along with the others. Ebony still stood there, a guard on each arm, calm and composed.

"Congratulations," she said simply to Ved, Cloe, and Ram, as they stood there smugly. "You've just opened the gates of hell for all of us." Then the guards carried her off.

* * *

Ebony was thrown into a lavishly decorated room, with a king-sized bed in one corner, a large bookshelf filled with books against one wall, and a couch and two armchairs around a small table against another. As the guards tied her to a hard, wooden chair, she took in her surroundings. There was a large Van Gogh painting of flowers hanging over the bed, and the walls were papered in a rich, velvety red. The bed was covered by a red and gold print comforter and pillows that complimented the wallpaper, and the couch was gold with red pillows, while the armchairs were the opposite. Somehow, it made sense that this would be Bray's room.

The guards tied her up tightly, the ropes digging into her wrists and ankles. They left her alone then, and she let out a somewhat frustrated sigh. She stared up at the golden chandelier that hung from the ceiling, filling the room with a romantic, soft light, and let her thoughts wander a bit.

She couldn't help wishing she'd actually told someone, anyone, about Bray's true nature. Or that she'd killed Ram one of those times she'd been given the chance. Maybe if she had, this wouldn't be happening now.

She knew one thing for sure - she wasn't afraid. She could get herself and the others out of this somehow. She moved about in her restraints, trying to get a better sense of the room. There were no windows and only the one door behind her. Nothing around that she could use as a weapon. As she shifted more, she felt something sharp press against her thigh.

A knife. Slade had given it to her before she'd gotten off the boat, just in case there was trouble ashore. She'd put it, sheathed, into her pocket. Tied as she was, she couldn't reach it, but if she could somehow convince Bray to untie her . . . Yes, that was it! If she knew anything at all about Bray, the one thing that stood out the most was that he was even more sex-fiendish than evil.

She would definitely have to thank Slade later for giving the knife to her to begin with . . .

She relaxed against her bonds as she heard footsteps coming. This was it . . . she could do it. The door opened, light from the hallway spilling onto the wood of the floor of the room.

"Well, hello, my love," she heard him behind her. "What a surprise, eh? You lot just happening to land here, of all places. And it's so good to see you, too." She could hear the sarcasm behind the mock-friendliness of his tone. Had he been speaking to anyone else, they probably wouldn't have even noticed it, but Ebony just knew him too well.

"I'd rather be in Antarctica, naked, in sub-zero temperatures, than stuck spending even one second in your company, _my love_," she snapped back. Gods, how she hated when he called her "my love." It had always been his pet name for her, and the sound of it coming from his lips brought back months and months of pent-up rage and bad memories.

"Oh, Ebony, relax. I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his voice silky and smooth like honey.

"No, you'll just violate me. Like always." Bray's hands gently rubber her shoulders, and she tensed at the touch. "Where's the baby?"

"Oh, he's somewhere safe, don't worry. Somewhere protected. Away from his wretch of a mother," he responded. "And as for that bitch and the others . . . if they play nice, maybe I'll let them live. Make them Techno slaves. Make them grovel and beg for mercy . . . for scraps of food." His grip on her shoulders tightened. But Ebony's voice did not falter as she spoke once more.

"And me?" Bray's hands left her shoulders, and he moved to stand in front of her, grin wide and dark.

"You, my pet," he ran a finger along her jaw as he crouched down, "You are my newest toy." He leaned in closer to her, so she could feel his breath, warm and moist on her cheek. The air caught in her throat, and she gripped the sides of the chair in an attempt to control her anger, now boiling up hot inside of her.

How she hated this boy, now a man. She hated his wicked smile . . . his charming, deceptive nature . . . the games he liked to play. He was everything she loathed about the world. And about men. What had she ever seen in him? And what had Trudy or Amber seen in him, for that matter?

The sweet, noble boy he showed to the world had never existed. He had no heart, no soul, no conscience. Only malice and insanity. And now, he stood naked before all those who loved him - no longer hiding who and what he really was.

And she felt relieved for it. No more secrets, no more nightmares, no more terror. This was going to end now.

"Do you remember the little games we used to play, my love? The hours spent . . . the pleasure," he teased seductively, letting his tongue slide along the rim of her ear, then giving her a feather-light nibble on the earlobe. _Let the charade begin_, Ebony thought.

"Y-yes," she stuttered, trying to act as though she was frightened, knowing it turned him on.

"You want to play one now?" He sat back, looking her in the eye. She looked at him with wide doe-eyes, like an animal caught in the lights of an oncoming car, then nodded slowly. A smile spread across his face.

"B-but you have to un-t-tie me, or I c-can't play," she stammered, still playing scared. "P-p-please, Bray . . . untie m-me . . ." She smiled shyly at him. He touched her cheek tenderly.

"Alright, my love." He stood up and walked behind her. She felt the ropes loosen, and as they fell to the floor, she pulled the knife from her pocket and whipped around to face him. As he looked at her in astonishment, almost as if in slow motion, she slid the blade across his neck, slicing his throat. Memories flashed before her eyes as she lunged at him, stabbing him repeatedly in the chest as they both fell to the floor.

Martin laying on the ground, unconscious and bloodied, as Bray continued to kick him, and she screamed, unable to stop him . . .

Bray throwing her onto the bed, terror in her eyes, as he tied to wrists to the bedposts while she screamed and tried to fight against his strength . . .

Trudy curled up in the fetal position on her bed as Bray raged at her, Ebony watching from across the hall . . .

"We're going to have a baby," Amber said happily, while clutching Bray's hand tightly, and they both smiled . . .

But last . . . and so vivid . . . Bray, the first time Ebony had ever seen him, that first day at school . . . his crystal blue eyes, chiseled face, perfect hair, and built frame of a body . . . how he'd smiled at her from across the cafeteria . . . she'd been gone almost immediately . . .

Blood sprayed out onto Ebony's hands and gushed down Bray's front as they struggled. He rolled her over to where he was on top, trying with what little strength he had left to knock the knife from her fingers, still looking at her in total shock. Finally, pale from blood loss, his lips a light blue, he collapsed on top of her, gasping for last breaths. She rolled the both of them over, then stood up.

"No more games, Bray," she spat viciously at her dying ex-lover, ripping the zapper from his wrist. "No more games." And with that, she wrenched the door open and walked out.

* * *

Ebony made her way down the walkway of what looked to be an old underground bunker. She was running on automatic now. First take out Ved and Ram, maybe save Cloe, if she wasn't too far gone. Then find Baby Bray.

She heard laughter down the hall and broke into a run, all blood-stained hands and clothes, knife still tightly gripped, Bray's zapper strapped to her wrist. She didn't have time to think about what she'd just done or what she was about to do. Consequences and conscience could wait. She had friends . . . family to save.

At the end of the hall, there was a door open on the right. She crept up to the doorjamb and peered just slightly around it to see who was inside the room.

Ram and Ved sat side-by-side on a couch across the room, playing animatedly on their laptop computers. Cloe sat on another couch nearby, book in her hands, the baby asleep beside her, surrounded by pillows. How lucky was this? All four of them in one place.

Ebony watched Cloe carefully. To the trained eye, it looked as though she was simply reading a book as the infant next to her napped. Looking more closely, there was the shine of tears running down her cheeks, and more glistened in her down turned eyes. And as Ebony observed this obvious misery, she knew instinctively that she could trust Cloe.

But how to get Cloe to take Little Bray and leave the room, so neither of them would get hurt or witness what was about to happen? Ebony sighed softly.

She looked into the room again, and at right about that moment, Cloe looked up. Her eyes widened as she saw Ebony, but she made no sound.

Ebony pointed to Cloe, then to Baby Bray, and then motioned for them to come to her. Cloe's eyes darted over to where the two boys sat, still engrossed in their games, and back to Ebony. She nodded slightly once that she understood and put her book aside, picking up the baby.

"I'm going to take Bray for a diaper change. He's starting to smell a little pongy. I'll be right back," she excused herself, standing up. Bray laid his head on her shoulder, still asleep.

"Okay," the boys mumbled in unison, not even bothering to look up. Cloe rolled her eyes and walked out of the room, where Ebony was waiting just outside the door. She grabbed Cloe's arm and dragged her to the wall outside, where they couldn't be seen.

"Wha - how did you -" Ebony clapped her hand over Cloe's mouth to quiet her.

"There's no time. I need you to free the others and get them back to the boat, along with the baby. Don't set sail 'till I get there, okay?" she instructed. Cloe nodded as Bray began to stir. "Now, hurry, go!" Cloe nodded once more, then set off at a run down the hall, the baby clutched tightly to her breast.

Ebony turned back to the open doorway, taking a deep breath. She switched the zapper on, turning the power all the way up. Enough power to kill a man. She had been training heavily with a zapper since Java and Siva's deaths, determined to be fast enough to shoot someone before they could shoot her. _All that training's going to pay off now_, she thought, as she got down and crawled into the room, hiding behind a third couch, opposite Ram and Ved.

She could hear the beeping and gunshot sounds emitting from the computers, and pulling herself up onto her knees, she snuck a peek over the top of the couch. Balancing herself against the piece of furniture, she raised the zapper on her right arm, aiming the little red dot at the center of Ved's forehead. 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .

As she fired, Ved shook forcefully from the energy of the blast for a few moments, then fell over on the couch, dropping the laptop. It fell to the floor with a loud crash, smashing into pieces. This was enough to startle Ram from his game-induced trance. He looked to the boy beside him, slumped over in the seat, not breathing.

"Ved?" Ram tossed the computer aside and stood up, moving quickly to his best friend. He shook the blond haired boy, whose eyes were wide and motionless, staring into space in an eerie way. He put a hand to Ved's neck to check for a pulse and found none.

"Ved?" Ram's eyes moved up Ved's face - it was then he saw the large laser burn on Ved's forehead. He jumped up, backing away. Ebony laughed at this.

"Oh my god . . .," he murmured, his eyes darting about the room. Ebony crept around the room to hide behind the couch Cloe had vacated a few minutes before, and she let out another laugh. "Who's there?" He spun around in hopes of finding the owner of the laughter.

Ebony slowly moved from her hiding spot, standing up. She crept up behind Ram, breath hitched in her throat. She could hear her ex-husband gasping for breath, his terror radiating from him like warm sunlight. _Blood. Must draw blood. He's why your sisters are dead. Evil. Must kill him_, her mind told her. _He led you all here. Handed you to Bray on a silver platter. He must go._

She grabbed him, putting the knife to his throat. He let out a startled cry. His skin was clammy with fear.

"Hello, lover," she whispered into his ear.

"Ebony?" She could hear his terror.

"You got it. Did you honestly think I couldn't get away from Bray?" She pressed the blade harder against his skin. He swallowed hard.

"P-please . . . Ebony. D-don't," he whimpered. "You don't understand. I had to b-bring you to him . . . don't d-do this . . ."

"Don't do what? Don't gut you like the yellow-bellied chicken you are?" she asked wryly, a sarcastic smile gracing her features. "Sorry, Ram. You left me no other choice, when you handed us to Bray like you did. And there is no reason in the world you can give to justify it. I don't care if he threatened to kill you - you still could have said no. You could have turned to us, the Mall Rats. We'd have been on your side, we'd have helped. But, no, once again, you had to choose the wrong thing - had to choose power. And now, I can only show you the same mercy I showed him. Trust me, it'll be quick and painless. Enjoy!"

With that, she swept the blade across his throat, as he let out a strangled scream. She felt the blood spill onto her fingers, and as she let him got and he crumbled to the floor, his blood pooling onto the carpet, she finally dropped the knife. As the reality of what she'd done finally hit her, her eyes widened, and she backed away from him in fright. Her mouth tried to form words, to apologize, to make excuses, something, but nothing would come out.

So she turned and ran, as fast as her legs would carry her, back out the way the guards had brought her in. She ran all the way to the dock, where the others sat nervously on the boat, waiting for her.

"Go, go!" she shouted at Jack, who was at the helm of the boat. Lex grabbed the rope that had been anchoring the boat to the dock and pushed off from the wood with his foot. Tears were streaming down Ebony's cheeks now, as she looked back at the island. She then began looking around blindly for Slade, as guilt overcame her completely. She'd never actually killed anyone before. Hurt them, yes - but never actually caused someone's death.

As Slade pulled her into his arms, she buried her head in his chest and let out a gut-wrenching sob. He didn't ask what had happened, though he had a pretty good idea, with her upper body, hands, and clothes caked with blood. He knew she would tell him when she was ready, and truth be told, he was just glad she felt safe enough with him to let go the way she was. He took her below deck to one of the beds and rocked her gently in his arms until she fell asleep. And in her sleep, the most amazing thing happened.

For the first time in nearly three years . . . the nightmares did not come back . . .

* * *

**_Okay . . . that's it. I will admit – I did start a sequel for this piece a while back – but as to whether or not you guys will ever see it, I honestly don't know. Please review – I'm anxious to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading!_**


End file.
